


Red Birds Stick Together

by Listentothelittlebird



Series: Code Bat [9]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd is a good brother, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim and Jason totally play blind chicken with Dick and Damian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 09:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26969437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listentothelittlebird/pseuds/Listentothelittlebird
Summary: Sometimes, even without Code Bat activating, the Bats cross paths in-between all their team missions.Really, it’s a wonder that nobody knows they’re connected.Meanwhile, Red Robin will have to explain to Superboy why he’s so comfortable around his almost-killer.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Code Bat [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964452
Comments: 41
Kudos: 841





	Red Birds Stick Together

“How long more ‘til something happens?” Roy asked, his eyes flicking towards his friend before refocusing back on the ghost town down below. Red Hood stood next to him, holding up a hand to the side of his helmet and checking the details of their current target.

Jason had traced a weapons shipment company out of Gotham all the way to this nondescript location out in the middle of nowhere. This was supposedly a storage location for some of their goods, and Jason had brought Roy in for good measure. Besides, a location with no civilians and an abandoned town where property damage was not a problem? Perfect for explosives. 

“There should be a truck coming from the road very soon,” Red Hood promised, “Then they’ll direct it towards the exact building they’re using for the weapons, and then bam- we got them.”

The houses in this ghost town were all made of large and sturdy mud bricks, with high ceilings and wide floors. Communal houses that were easily used as warehouses. It would take up too much time trying to investigate all the houses, especially when there were no obvious guards in sight.

“We’d have at least a few seconds head start to take them all down,” Roy hummed, “Then once it’s all done and over, we can do a sweeping check of all the other houses. How long would it take for police to come here, from the nearest city?”

“Roughly thirty minutes to an hour, depending on their response time.” That was not Jason. Red Hood held back a groan as he turned around and came face to face with his younger brother, and his Superman-wannabe friend. Roy swerved and aimed his bow at the new arrivals, but Red Hood waved away his defensive stance. “Keep an eye on the town, and the road,” Red Hood instructed, “I’ll find out what the kids are doing here.”

“We’re not kids!” Superboy hissed, Red Robin placing a placating hand on his shoulder. He was not being openly hostile, but it seemed like Kon-El still had his reservations about Jason.

Jason understood the boy’s reluctance to trust him. He would be surprised if the mini Boy Scout had just let his break-in and takedown of Titans tower go, after all.

“Red Robin,” Red Hood drawled, “And his overprotective teammate. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m not-“ Superboy stepped forward angrily, but Red Robin was faster. He blocked his friend’s path towards his older brother, cutting him off with a sharp look. 

“We’re not here to fight,” Red Robin stated sternly. Roy snorted, having turned back to his original position, “Then tell your friend to stand down. I know Hood’s done a number to Red Robin before, but he’s come a long way since. Lay off the aggression.”

“We tracked this group of weapons traffickers here from San Francisco,” Red Robin started, before Superboy could speak up again, “What brought you guys here?”

“Busted a weapons smuggling group in my home turf,” Jason explained vaguely. Tim raised an eyebrow. Jason tapped the side of his helmet, sending his case details to Tim’s holo glove. A discreet flick of his wrist found Tim’s own case file appearing on Jason’s helmet interface.

“If Superkid beside you can set aside his grudges, then we can work together. I’d hate for this to get nasty, but Arsenal and I were here first, and there’s no way we’re dropping our own bust onto you guys,” as Jason spoke, Roy gave a quiet signal with his hand. The truck was approaching. Superboy had tilted his head, obviously picking up on this change as well.

Red Robin looked over at him, and he huffed out a breath of air. “Fine,” he acquiesced, his eyes narrowing, “But you do anything to Red, and you’ll be sorry.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jason replied truthfully, although Superboy’s eyes remained narrowed. In front of him, Tim flashed a small smile, before reverting to a neutral expression.

Moments later, a plan was set in place. Red Hood and Red Robin would move in on the suspected main building, while Roy and Superboy would make the rounds with other buildings that had suspicious storages. Having an alien with X-ray vision was really useful, Jason realised. Maybe he should drag Bizzaro out for one of these missions, some day.

Like all missions, things were going well, until they weren’t.

The new shipment of weapons were apparently experimental chemical weapons of sorts. Jason would later state in his report that they were just “glorified glue guns”. 

The glue had nailed both Jason’s helmet and Tim’s knee, such that Jason could not see or take off his helmet, the helmet latch glued shut, and Tim was stuck with one of his legs perpetually bent. The glue had already hardened, and later they would find a way to dissolve it, but until then, they had yet to clear the building of all the hired help. Who were still shooting at them - now with real bullets.

Jason grunted as a weight slammed into him from behind. The only thing that stopped him from nearly flinging the body over his shoulder was the soft hiss both beside his ear and in his comms, “Roll left!”

Jason rolled, holstering his guns and accepting the bo staff that was thrust into his hands. He could try and shoot, sure, but it was safer for him to stick to close range when his sight was impaired.

Tim had scrambled onto his shoulders, faint whistling noises sounding from bird-a-rangs flung at enemies, calling out warnings of attacks and directing his hits towards their targets. 

“I’m out of things to throw,” Red Robin soon stated, “You?”

“Third pocket on the left,” Red Hood grunted back. The weight on his back shifted, and Tim snorted as he righted himself with handfuls of red batarangs. They had the white slits of his helmet’s eyes, but the shape was still unmistakably bat-like.

“I don’t use them, usually,” Jason stated conversationally, “They come in handy when I need to intimidate someone, though. Nobody traces them back to me, too, so I can use them anywhere.”

“Nice,” Tim hummed, keeping his response purposefully vague just in case Superboy was still in hearing range, “I have to resort to the originals at home. Make them think that I’m bigger and all that. Short guy on your right.”

Jason swept the man off his feet, knocking him out with a firm blow to the head. 

The fight progressed until everyone was knocked out. Jason strolled around with Tim on his shoulders, who was reaching down from his perch and zip-tying everyone’s hands and feet. 

The last person in the building regained consciousness before they reached him, and proceeded to bolt out of the building. Jason gave chase under Tim’s guidance.

“You’re past the door, and- oh, Kon’s here. Stop, stop, they’ve got him.”

Red Hood ground to a halt just as Roy’s voice rang out, “Why on earth are you guys playing chicken?”

“Red’s got a leg cast in the wrong shape, and I’m blind, Sherlock,” Red Hood snarked, pointing towards his blocked helmet visor, “Anyone else we have to take care of?”

“No,” Superboy responded after a short pause, “There’s some houses with lead piping, though. I can’t see into those, but I don’t hear any movement from them.”

“We’ll go check them out,” Red Robin decided, “You two can start to catalogue all the weapons in storage. We’ll call the authorities once we’ve done a sweep of the houses you couldn’t see into. Where are they?”

“This whole row over here.” Jason guessed that Superboy was gesturing with his arm. 

“Okay,” Red Robin mumbled, once their two friends were out of earshot, “We’ll start with the building you’re facing right now. Yip yip, forwards we go.”

“I’m not freaking Appa, you little shit,” Red Hood grumbled, failing to hide his small chuckle as he ambled forward in a straight line.

They made it through the row of houses, which all turned out to be empty. Except the last one, of course, because why would things be easy?

“Oh, this one’s got a load of crates,” Tim whistled, the echo in his voice telling of a slightly larger building. Tim directed Jason towards the nearest crate. His hologlove hummed as it scanned the contents, and he could feel the moment that the body above him tensed up.

“What?” he questioned sharply, very much uncomfortable with not being able to see, to know for himself what his brother’s scan was showing.

“Sharp right,” Tim snapped, “Bombs, unknown amount. Rigged to explode.”

Jason swivelled and sprinted back the way he had entered. 

The two had barely gotten several paces away from the building before the shockwave hit them, knocking Jason forwards and off his feet. He twisted, maneuvering Tim’s smaller frame under him as he hit the floor, back towards the building as it went up in flames.

Jason focused on his breaths, waiting for the ringing in his ears to subside. That was way too close for his comfort. Even without the sight to see the explosion, he could picture it all too well.

“Well,” he muttered to distract himself, “I wanted to blow things up, didn’t I? Just wished I had pulled the trigger.”

“Red Hood,” Tim groaned, “Hood. Get off. You’re heavy.”

“I was shielding you, you insolent snob.” He rolled off regardless of his words.

“Yeah, well, you squished me in the process.”

“A thanks would be nice.”

“Ok. Thanks for being my personal transport.”

“You little-“

Superboy’s yell re-centered Jason. Right, this was not Gotham. Brotherly banter could wait.

“Red Robin? Are you alright?” a thud sounded somewhere near Red Robin’s voice. “I’m alright, Superboy. Hood got us out in time,” Red Robin assured. Roy’s footfalls came soon after. “Can’t you last one week without being almost blown to smithereens?” he stressed in exasperation, helping Jason to his feet.

“What can I say,” Jason shrugged, “Explosions like me. Now, can we please find some way to get this glue off? We have some chemistry kits in our jet.” 

“I’ve already called the cops,” Red Robin added, “They should be arriving soon. Superboy can keep watch on the town while we work on something to dissolve the glue.”

“Alright,” Superboy agreed, his tone that of begrudging respect. Apparently shielding someone from a fiery blast bumped Jason up on the trust-o-meter. 

“Hood, kneel down for me.”

Red Hood snorted, “You catapulted yourself onto me during the fight, I’m quite sure you can replicate that right now.”

A soft huff, and then an added weight collided with his back, quickly settling itself back on his shoulders. Jason reached up and patted Tim’s knee.

“Alright, Arsenal, lead the blind and lame men to the jet,” Red Hood grinned, and above him Tim suppressed a quiet snicker.

As they wandered away from Superboy’s hearing range, Tim correcting Jason’s steps to follow Roy’s every so often, Tim whispered into the comms, “Are you alright? After that blast, I mean.”

Jason rolled his eyes, ignoring the smile tugging at his lips, “I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve had to deal with an exploding warehouse since I’ve returned.”

There was a significant pause, during which Jason could feel the concerned frown above him. Jason huffed, “I swear I’ll be fine. I might have a nightmare or two, that’s how it is whenever there’s a trigger, but that’s all. It’ll take more than some psychological trauma to bring me down.”

“Alright,” Tim accepted quietly. Then, “The Manor’s always open. I’ll hang around there for the next week or so, if you need anyone to talk to.”

This time, Jason let his mouth tick upwards in a soft smile. 

“Thanks, little bird.”

“No problem, riding hood.”

Jason snorted, and tipped his shoulders back, Tim scrambling for a hold on his helmet with a quiet giggle.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I just like writing random fics of the Bats on missions. Fun things that just exist because I want them to :))


End file.
